The Collected Short Stories of Louis L'Amour, Volume 1 Read Online Free PDF Page B

spotted them ahead of him, and he deliberately created dust off to their left and behind. That night he left his own horse and rode one of the others, and took the other unshod horse around their camp. He left four separate sets of tracks across their trail for the following day.
    Moving on cat feet, he slipped down to the edge of the camp. A small fire was burning. Floren was asleep, and Ross sat nearby. Waiting for more than an hour with Indian patience, he finally got his chance. He slipped the muzzle of his rifle through the strap of a canteen and withdrew it carefully. He could have stolen the other also, but he did not. He made his way some distance, then deliberately let a small gravel slide start. Glancing back, he saw Ross come to his feet and leap from the firelight.
    It was the beginning of his plan. He watched them draw up when they reached the tracks of the unshod ponies the following morning. To anyone, this certainly meant Indians. Indians often rode horses shod at trading posts or stolen from the white settlers, but white men almost never rode an unshod horse for any length of time. The tracks were headed west and south. Floren and Ross pulled off the trail, working north. Remembering the country ahead of them, Speke was satisfied.
    In the four nights that followed, he succeeded in alarming their camp with stealthy noises at least twice a night. He left pony tracks ahead of them and near the camp. Steadily, they bore off to the north, trying to avoid the unseen Indians.
    They were worried by the Indians they believed were congregating nearby, they had but one canteen between them, and they were getting only disturbed sleep when they slept at all. It was a calculated war of nerves. Twice Speke lay on a bluff or behind a rock near the camp and heard them arguing fiercely.
    Ahead of them on the following morning, he built a signal fire. He used a blanket to simulate Indian signals, then went south a few miles and did the same thing. They were now well to the north of Ehrenberg and headed for Hardyville. At dusk he lit two more signal fires and used the smoke, then put them out and worked closer to the camp of the two outlaws.
    Floren was thinner, haggard, hollow-eyed. Ross was tighter, snappish, and shifty. They built a tiny fire to make coffee, and Speke waited. When Ross reached for the pot, he fired rapidly—three times.
    The first shot struck the fire and threw sparks, the second drilled the coffeepot—Speke could see the sudden puff of steam and smoke when the coffee hit the fire—and the third shot struck a log on which Floren was seated.
    Following the shots there was silence. Evidently the firing had caught both men away from their rifles. Moving a little, Speke watched the fire, relaxed and at ease. He had suffered from these men, and now he expected to recover his gold, and to do it, if possible, without killing.
    Yet they had planned for him to die, and only the presence of Duffield and the rest had saved him in the saloon. It was not a consideration of mercy that moved him, rather a complete indifference to the fate of the two men. He wanted his gold; this he had worked for, slaved for. Whatever they had won gambling he would consider his—won with his money and payment for this long trek.
    Day dawned with low clouds and a hint of rain. He saw them move out slowly, and knew they had spent an uncomfortable and altogether miserable night away from their bedrolls. Twice during the day he sent them into hiding with quick shots from ambush, not aimed to kill.
    Twice he heard them bickering over the canteen, and an idea came to him. He knew they kept the gold close to them, so to get at it was scarcely possible, but there was something else he could get. And that night he stole one of their horses.
    At dawn, after a quiet sleep on the desert, Tom Speke was awake. Gathering his horses, he left them concealed in the shelter of an upthrust of rock, and then moved closer to watch.
    Already an